


Crossing Over

by Aragarna



Category: Second Chance (TV 2016), White Collar
Genre: Crack, Crossover, Fluff and Humor, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-06-03 19:17:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6622978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aragarna/pseuds/Aragarna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter meets a young man who claims to be his father.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crossing Over

It was already night time when Peter finally parked the car in front of his Brooklyn house. Exhausted by a tedious day in the field chasing leads and criminals, he slowly climbed the steps and pushed open the door of his home. He slipped out of his shoes and jacket, loosened his tie, and crashed on the sofa. With a heavy sigh, he grabbed the remote and switched on the TV. Lulled by the sound of the TV, he leaned back, put his feet on the coffee table and closed his eyes a moment.

He was abruptly awakened by loud knocks on the door. “Duval! Duval, please, open the door,” someone was calling from outside.

Vaguely annoyed, Peter staggered to his feet, rubbing his eyes.

He opened the door and frowned at the stranger who had so unceremoniously hauled him from his nap. The man was of a strong build, a bit stocky, and slightly shorter than Peter. He had a welcoming smile, to which Peter was totally indifferent at the moment. “Who are you?” he grumbled.

The man looked dumbfounded a moment. “Come on, son, I thought we were past that stage. It’s me, Jimmy, your _dad_.”

Peter’s frown deepened and he pinched his nose in despair. “Dad?! What the… Are you crazy?”

The man, Jimmy, definitely looked younger than Peter – probably about Neal’s age as far as Peter could tell – and most of all, Peter had never seen him in his life. And he sure as hell didn’t look like his father at all. He took a deep breath and forced himself to be as polite as he could despite his growing exasperation.

“Look, I’m not in the mood. I had a terrible day, and I have work to do. I don’t have time for this nonsense.”

He went to slam the door, but the man blocked it. “The series of robberies? I saw that on the news. That’s why I’m here! I want to help!”

“Help?”

“Yes, I’m your CI now, remember?” Jimmy said joyfully. “I can help you on the case!”

“My CI? I only have one CI, and he’s enough of a handful.”

Jimmy grinned, obviously taking this as a compliment.

Peter shook his head. “I’m talking about _Neal_.”

Jimmy’s smile disappeared. “Neal? I don’t remember you mentioning any Neal before.”

“And I don’t remember ever talking to you before!” Peter said, exasperated.

Now Jimmy looked genuinely concerned. He put his hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Duval, are you alright? What happened to you?”

Peter instinctively retreated. He raised an eyebrow at the way the man was addressing him. “Duval?”

“Look, kiddo, I’m sorry you hate this name so much. I had no idea. But it’s not like we can do anything about it now. Are you going to let me in, or what?”

Peter was utterly confused. Either he had completely lost his mind, or this man was totally crazy. And why on Earth would he think he was his dad?!

The situation was so surreal that Peter didn’t even resist when Jimmy walked past him and walked to the kitchen, which, to Peter’s greater and greater confusion, wasn’t _his_ kitchen. Looking around, he realized it wasn’t in his home at all.

“Wait – what is this place? How did I get here?”

Ignoring him, Jimmy walked to the fridge, uncapped a beer and sat at the kitchen bar.

Peter, now completely lost and vaguely desperate, sat on the next stool and put his head in his hands.

A skinny teenage girl walked in, a big school bag hanging on her shoulder. “Hey, Dad! Oh hi, Uncle Jimmy!” she greeted them cheerfully.

Jimmy lit up. “Hi, Gracie. How was your day?”

“Fine,” she said with a shrug. “You know, school.” She pointed at her backpack. “I have homework to do. See you for dinner?”

“Sure, kiddo,” Jimmy said with a smile.

Gracie grabbed a cookie from the counter and disappeared inside the house.

“So, hmm,” Peter said carefully. “Gracie is my daughter, your niece, and yet you’re my dad?”

Jimmy shrugged. “Just playing by your rules, Duval. I’d rather tell her the truth. She still thinks I jumped over that bridge. And she misses me. I believe it’d be better for her, if we just told her the truth.”

Peter looked at Jimmy, stunned. Why nothing he was saying made any sense at all?!

“By the way,” Jimmy went on, “I was thinking, how about we build a sort of shed in your backyard, for the tank. It doesn’t need to be big, as long as the tank fits in.”

“The tank? What tank?”

“My tank, you know, to regenerate me. I mean, I’m still looking for an apartment of my own, of course. But in the meantime, as you offered so gracefully the other day, I could stay with you and Gracie… Otherwise, I was thinking maybe Helen could move back with you, that way I could move back to my own apartment… Son, what do you think?”

“I just want to go home…” Peter whined. “Hug my wife, pet my dog, go to bed…”

Jimmy slowly turned to face him. “Your wife?” he sighed. “Son, seriously, are you okay?”

Peter just shook his head. He closed his eyes tight and tried to focus his mind very hard on his Brooklyn home, Elizabeth’s scent, Satchmo’s wet nose sliding under his fingers…

He slowly opened his eyes, but he was still in that damn foreign house with this crazy guy called Jimmy who thought he was his father.

Jimmy was looking at him with concern and sorrow. “I’m very sorry I wasn’t there for you, when your wife died. I should have made more effort, but you were still so mad at me for the Kevin Whitfield case… I just didn’t know how to talk to you.”

Peter looked up at him. In whatever universe or reality this was, his wife was dead? The simple thought that he could lose El hurt so much that he almost choked. He didn’t want to stay here. He had to go home.

“I’m here for you now, kiddo,” Jimmy said softly.

Peter cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “Look, Jimmy, it might sound crazy to you – it sure sounds crazy to me – but I’m not Duval. My name is Peter Burke, and I don’t understand anything of what’s going on. A minute ago, I was relaxing in my living room, and now I’m here, in this stranger’s house, with a man who think he’s my father, despite the fact he’s clearly younger than me, and who apparently jumped over a bridge… Wait, are you dead? Are you a ghost? Or did I die, right there on my couch, and this is hell?”

Peter’s heart started racing as realization settled that he might be in some sort of purgatory. Jimmy softly brushed Peter’s cheek with his fingers and he bent over to kiss him.

Peter jerked, and pushed Jimmy away. “What the…!”

“Hon? It’s me.”

Peter opened his eyes with a jolt. His heart was beating hard against his ribcage, and his breath was short. He blinked a couple times and finally focused on Elizabeth, who was standing over him, an uncertain look on her face. Peter looked around, he was back on _his_ sofa, in _his_ living room. He let out a huge sigh of relief and sat up.

It was a dream! It was all just a dream…

“I just had the wildest dream…” he started explaining to El. But he was stopped short by the sight of Jimmy… on TV. “That’s him, that’s Jimmy! He was in my dream!” Peter chuckles. “And he thought he was my father…”

“Your father?” Elizabeth repeated, skeptical.

Peter shrugged. “I know, _weird_. Don’t ask.”

Elizabeth fidgeted with the remote to display info on the current program. “Second Chance,” she read. “ _Jimmy Pritchard, a 75 year-old disgraced sheriff is brought back to life in a younger body by tech wonder-twins Mary and Otto Goodwin_.” She chuckled. “I guess this show just snuck into your dream. Oh look, that must be his son. He does look a bit like you. And look, he’s FBI too! He’s cute.”

Peter rolled his eyes. Elizabeth cuddled next to him and they started watching the show. After a while, Peter winced. “Ugh, that’s a hell of a robbery gone wrong. I prefer my crimes to be a little less gory.”

“And your criminals to be smart,” Elizabeth added.

“That too,” Peter said with a smile. He bent toward Elizabeth and put a soft kiss at the small of her neck. “And I sure love my reality best, with my wife by my side.”

Elizabeth smiled and kissed him back.

“Wait, are you saying that the good looking agent with the nice suits and that adorable wink is single?”

 


End file.
